Jack and Thomas.

 

The man stood, watching, as his helpless son struggled to save himself.

“Come on Thomas” he yelled, as loudly as he could, willing him to pull himself up and get to safety.

Jack had never meant for this to happen. He had taken his son into the desert to show him how to be a man. But now he realised that he had pushed him too far, too fast. He was too young for this kind of ordeal.

It had all started well enough. The weather had been fine, mild even. But suddenly, and without warning, it had changed. Upstream, at the foot of the mountains, it had begun raining, gently at first, but the rain had become a deluge. Then a torrent. Unbeknownst to them it had thundered down the dry riverbed towards them, sweeping everything in its path.

They had pitched their make-shift tent, a tarpaulin really, stretched over a bent sapling and pegged to the ground, right at the edge of a dry wadi. There had been no warning, just a building noise which rumbled in the ground and all around them. When the wall of water hit they had just cleared up the remains of their first meal of the day. Baked beans, eggs and sausages. All cooked over an open fire. Jack was showing him how to put out the fire so that it was safe when it hit. It had ploughed into them both. Knocking the breath from their lungs. Flinging them madly through the turbulent and powerful water. Jack was flung over onto a rocky outcrop where he clung on for dear life. He looked desperately around, trying to catch sight of his son who he spotted across the now deep and fast-flowing river. Thomas had somehow managed to grab hold of a branch and was weakly trying to pull himself up onto the bank. He was disoriented and weak and Jack, watching, could do nothing. He knew that if Thomas didn’t get up onto the bank and get to safety the rising waters would kill him.

He watched, his anxiety and fear for his son’s life tying his stomach into a hard knot. He anxiously willed his son to succeed. He tried to shout across the river to him but the rushing waters drowned his voice. It was useless. Thomas couldn’t hear him. He looked around to see if there was a way he could get across to his son, or at least to let him know he was still alive. He couldn’t bear the thought of his son thinking he was all alone, that he was lost in this once dry wilderness with no-one to look out for him. It was too much like his own childhood. He had spent most of it living in the shadow of his father. A distant figure whom he rarely saw. He had spent a lonely childhood, just he and his mother, and he swore that when he grew up he would love his son and spend time with him. He would do what his own father had been unable to do. Jack’s anxiety was nearly overwhelming.

Now, to make matters worse, the waters were rising rapidly and Thomas was still trying to hold on to the branch, the water’ strong currents trying to pull him away. All Jack could do was to watch helplessly while his son struggled for life.

“He’s strong” Jack tried to reassure himself. “He’ll make it. Just one more branch…..come on Thomas….stretch……you can do it.” He would never be able to forgive himself if his son died now. He had brought him out here. Trying to prove…..what? That he was a good father? He couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Couldn’t bear the thought that his only son might die because he was trying not to be like his own father.

He was completely helpless. Could do nothing but watch.

On the opposite side of the river, Thomas, with a final concerted effort, threw his body towards the trunk of the tree……and caught it. His father’s heart leapt for joy.

“Come on Thomas.” He yelled at the top of his lungs. “You’re nearly there. Pull yourself up.”

Thomas managed to pull himself up onto the bank. Exhausted, he lay over onto his back, his eyes closed, his body spent.

Jack put his clenched fist onto his heart. His stomach felt like it was in his throat

“Oh thank God”, he muttered, relief washing over him. “Thank god he’s alright. I knew he could do it.” Tears stung his eyes and rolled down his face as he realised how close he had come to losing his precious son.

But, they were not out of danger yet. They were still on opposite sides of the river, muddy now with sediment and debris washed down from further upstream. He would have to find a way across and get to him.

The waters were still rising steadily but they had become a steady flow and the crashing loudness of the water had eased somewhat. He stood up taller on the rock, taking care not to slip, and tried to get his son’s attention.

“Thomas.” He yelled, again and again. “Thomas. Look son I’m over here. Thomaaasss.” He scrambled carefully down the side of the rock. He was dripping wet and cold but he barely noticed. All of his attention on trying to get to him. He waved his arms wildly trying to get his attention. “Thomas. Thomas. I’m over here…….. Look.”

He ran across the sand at the edge of the rushing water trying to find a way across. He tried to gauge how deep it was, how strong was the current. The waters were still rising but slower now. Thomas hadn’t moved and hadn’t heard his father yelling. Was he OK? Was he hurt? Jack had to get across. He had to find a way across somehow. He attempted to check the strength of the current by wading into the edge of the water. He could see the swirling water in the centre so he knew that he would probably not make it through. There was no telling how deep it was. It was too muddy and brown. In desperation he picked up a short but thick stump of branch and was just about to throw it across the water, close to where Thomas was lying, when Thomas began to stir. Jack yelled again.

“Thomas, Thomas, Over here.” He waved his arms frantically.

“Dad?” Thomas cried. “Dad? Where are you?”

“Thomas. Look. Across the river. I’m over here.” His throat, sore now with the strain of shouting, caused him to cough violently. Thomas heard him.

“Dad. Dad. I can see you.” He shouted as loudly as he could. Soaking wet and weak he tried to get to his feet but his legs were shaking and he barely made it. He couldn’t walk just yet. He had to sit back down.

He was scared but at least his dad was ok and trying to rescue him. He was safe even though his dad was on the opposite side of the river. He was safe.

Jack now had to decide whether to go upstream and find a crossing place or downstream but he didn’t want to leave Thomas alone. He didn’t want him out of his sight, not again. But he had to do something. He tried to yell across that he was going to go and look for a way to cross but Thomas could barely hear him. He knew his dad would try to find a way to get to him so he nodded as though he had heard him. He saw the waters were getting higher so he crawled further away and sat with his back against another tree. It gave him some shelter too from the sun which was now quite high in the sky. All their stuff had been washed away and there was nothing left but he didn’t care. He was too tired to care. What did it matter when you were alive. That was more important, wasn’t it? He closed his eyes and waited. Waited for his dad to cross the river and come to him. He knew he would find a way, it was his dad, after all? He was always there. Always there to help him. All he had to do was wait.

His eyes closed and Thomas fell asleep. His body was exhausted and needed the rest.

But Jack would find a way.

 

Reviews

[Aspiring Angel]

Your stories are so gripping. This one no exception to the rule. I found myself rooting for Thomas to find safety and was almost holding my breath as he lunged for the limb. Wonderful story, wonderful job.

Blessings
Lesa